A Bit of Harmless Fun
by padfoot's prose
Summary: When Victoire enters the room and her first words are, "Don't judge me," it's a bit of a clue that something strange is going on. And Teddy Lupin is most likely involved.
1. Chapter 1

**The last time I published something on fanfiction, I recall promising to write either some Klaine or Rose/Scorpius. As you can see, this is neither of those. But I was in the mood for some Teddy/Victoire, so here it is. Two more chapters to come!**

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><p><strong>A Bit of Harmless Fun - part 1<strong>

_by padfoot_

...

"Don't judge me."

Victoire was biting her lip as she addressed the room at large. Most of the girls scattered in sleeping bags across the lounge room of Shell Cottage nodded dully in response, but Victoire fixed her half-hearted glare on Dominique. Her sister was the only one who seemed to be fully awake, and she was looking straight at Victoire with a quirked eyebrow and a distinctly judgmental expression.

"Seriously, Dom. Don't judge me."

"I'm not judging," Dominique replied, her tone even more judgemental than her quirked eyebrow and straight-mouthed stare.

"You _are_," Victoire insisted, defensive and somewhat desperate. By this point, some of the room's other occupants had begun to take interest in the conversation. "And you don't even know what happened yet!"

"What did happen?" One of the other girls asked, following up the question with a wide yawn.

The girl lived in a house close to Shell Cottage, and knew Victoire and Dom through being neighbours rather than through school. She was close in age to Dominique, and close in temperament too.

Victoire bit her lip again, and fixed her eyes on the pale-coloured carpet at her feet.

She hadn't _meant_ for what had happened to happen, not really. It had all been sort of a joke, a fun little game to play as a treat for herself on her fifteenth birthday. Her parents were away, and her friends had come to Shell Cottage for an innocent, regular sleepover. Just friends hanging out. The thing that had happened was all the result of a little bit of harmless fun. Harmless fun that Victoire just knew Dominique would judge her for indulging in.

"It was nothing," Victoire said, trying and failing to sound blasé. "I just know that you're going to comment, and I'm telling you now that you shouldn't. Because it's nothing."

"Okay," the same girl, the neighbour, said. She drew out the word in a way that made it sound particularly judgemental.

The girl sat up and stretched, glancing around the room to meet Dom's eye. The two exchanged a look, which made Victoire squirm. The other girls in the room began to stir as well, eyes blinking open to watch the conversation unfold.

This was definitely not what Victoire had wanted.

When she had thought about this moment, the moment of her confession, of revealing the results of last night's harmless fun, she had hoped only Dom would witness it. Dominqiue, after all, as her younger sister, tended to witness practically all of Victoire's embarrassments. And, despite her expressions and questions, Dom tended to be capable of withholding judgement and keeping secrets, both of which were very valuable skills in these kinds of situations.

Victoire had not considered that her words might pique the interest of other friends of hers. She had also not considered the world of mortification she was opening herself up to, by giving her sister an ally in this situation.

"It's just, I had a lot of butterbeer," Victoire explained, "I was, you know, a bit less- um, you know…"

"A bit less inhibited?" Dominqiue suggested, her expression all innocence, but her eyes flashing deviously.

Victoire nodded and muttered, "That's the word, yeah."

"And what did you do?"

There was a long moment of silence.

"Nothing _actually_ happened, okay?" Victoire repeated, just to make herself clear.

It was true. Nothing had happened in the sense that people tended to think things like this happened. Victoire was fifteen after all, not twenty-one. She wasn't about to have a butterbeer-prompted romp in the sack just for fun.

It had just been a little bit of flirtation, a few more kisses on the cheek than should strictly happen between friends, and a lot more kisses in other places. She had, for instance, never known that someone's lips on her collarbone could elicit quite so strong of a response before last night.

"Okay," both Dominique and her co-conspirator said, giving identical nods.

Victoire frowned and sighed out a deep breath, knowing there was no way to get of this situation without completely mortifying herself. Better to get it over with, she figured.

"I'll be back in a second," she said, then turned around and hurried up the stairs to her bedroom.

Victoire winced at the murmuring that erupted as soon as she left the living room. She was never going to live this thing down.

She ducked into the bathroom to wash her face and run her fingers through her hair, eager to delay heading back to her bedroom and facing the mortification of _the thing that had happened_.

It was one thing to do stuff with someone late at night, alone in shadowy corners and in her moonlit bedroom. But it was another thing entirely to face it in the morning.

The sun shone brightly through the bathroom's frosted glass window, casting a warm golden glow on Victoire's tired eyes and flushed cheeks. She patted her face dry with a handtowel, hoping to cool away some of her blush, but of course it was no good. Taking a deep breath, she checked her hair one more time and turned towards her room. Better to get it over with, she reminded herself.

The bedroom door was shut, and Victoire knocked on it gently, scared to enter unannounced.

"It's me," she said quietly, "Can I come in?"

A few seconds went by without Victoire hearing an answer. She moved closer to the door, listening for sounds of movement inside, and was taken by surprise when it was pulled opened and she found herself standing awfully close to last night's _happening_.

His eyes were bleary and still half-shut, his hair sticking up everywhere, and Victoire instantly felt guilty about having woken him up.

"I'm sorry!" she blurted, "I thought you were already awake."

Her bedroom's occupant let out a drowsy chuckle, "Don't worry, I was. Just hoping to get a sleep in."

Victoire's guilt grew.

"Sorry," she said, "I don't really do that. Sleep in, I mean."

"I noticed."

They stood together for a long, awkward moment. Victoire was very pointedly staring at anything but the boy in her doorway. The boy, on the other hand seemed rather relaxed, rubbing his eyes, rolling his shoulders and shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"Can I come in?" Victoire finally asked.

"Oh, yeah. Sure. Sorry."

The boy stepped aside, and Victoire slipped passed him, desperate not to touch him. Things had progressed rather fast the last time that had happened.

"It is your room," the boy added belatedly, watching Victoire from the doorway as she moved to her bed, bending down to fish his jumper from where it sat in a heap on the floor.

"It is," Victoire agreed, somewhat absently, fetching the boy's shoes and socks as well, and carrying them over to place in his arms.

"And you're very protective of your space," the boy went on, his eyes making Victoire's skin tingle as they followed her movement around the bedroom. "And that, I'm guessing, is the reason why you're kicking me out."

"No," Victoire quickly replied, finally stopping to meet his eyes. Her cheeks instantly turned cherry red, so she swiftly looked away again, moving over to her wardrobe.

"Then why I am being kicked out?"

The question had Victoire stumped, and she bought herself some precious time by opening her wardrobe and running her hands over the clothes hanging up in there. She had no intention of getting dressed at all – in fact she had no intention of ever leaving the house ever again, if that's what it took to hide from her embarrassment – but looking at her clothes gave her something to do other than look at the boy.

"Because soon everyone will realise that you're gone," Victoire eventually said.

"And you don't want anyone to know what happened?" the boy guessed.

Victoire laughed without humour and muttered, "It's a bit late for that."

"Oh."

There was another stretch of silence, before Victoire spoke with forced light-heartedness.

"It's all my fault, I suppose, for letting you sleep in."

"A rookie error, Weasley. I expected more from you."

The teasing came easily to him, directed at her softly, without any cruelness or venom. It was charming and natural and _normal_, dispelling at least some of the awkwardness that hung thick in the air. Victoire smiled.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you," she said. She was still looking into her wardrobe at her clothes. Of course she was so focused on him that she could see nothing but blurred colours in front of her. Still, she refused to meet his eyes.

Victoire could hear his footsteps muffled by the thick carpet as the boy stepped away from the doorway, closer to her.

"I'm not disappointed," he said, and for those three words his voice wasn't teasing at all. "It's just that I think you could do better. Anticipate my sleeping in, you know. Make concessions for it, plan ahead. Maybe you could do that next time."

His last words were slow and deliberate, his voice so much closer than Victoire had expected.

She glanced up, startled to see him beside her, within arm's reach.

"Next time?" she asked.

He gave a little shrug, suddenly shy and ridiculously endearing, and said, "If you want."

Victoire's cheeks were burning, but her stomach bubbled with nervous happiness. She smiled with an anxious, breathless kind of joy, half embarrassed and half thrilled.

"I would like there to be a next time," she told him.

He smiled too.

"Hey! Victoire!"

They both started at the sound of Dom's yelled from downstairs, and on instinct Victoire darted to the door, making sure no one was outside.

"Yes?" she called back.

"Are you coming back down here or what?"

"Just a second!"

Victoire glanced back at her companion, who was still smiling gently, but now looking rather resigned to missing his sleep in.

"I'll be downstairs in a couple of minutes," he offered, "Just let me, uh-" he wordlessly held up his armful of clothes.

"Okay," Victoire said. "See you soon."

She left him behind with one more shared smile, hurrying back down to the living room. Everyone was awake now, rolling up sleeping bags or rifling through their overnight bags for a change of clothes. She hadn't realised how long she'd been gone.

"Have you sorted out that thing that happened that we're not supposed to judge you for?" Dominique asked.

Victoire scowled, but refused to let her new good mood be ruined.

She gave her sister a curt nod and said, "It's nothing. I was being stupid, asking you not to judge me." Feeling particular daring she added, "I don't even care if you find out."

"That's good," Dominique replied. Her expression suddenly bright and very discomfiting, and she shared a glance with her co-conspirator from before.

Suddenly Victoire regretted her words. She regretted them very much. She opened her mouth to take it all back, but Dominque spoke up first, her tone painfully loud and confident.

"Because you know what I realised just now? There's someone who was definitely at your party last night, but isn't in this room now. Isn't that strange?"

"Dom-" Victoire said desperately, but she already knew it was too late.

"Who's missing?" the next-door niehgbour asked, clearly in on Dominique's plan and not even feigning innocence anymore.

Dom shot Victoire one last smug little smile and said, "Teddy Lupin."


	2. Chapter 2

"Don't judge me."

Victoire's tone was sharp and dangerous, the words out of her mouth faster than lightening when she saw the Daily Prophet clasped in Dominque's hands. Dom was sitting at the table of their tent's large living room. She was wearing jeans and a red t-shirt, in support of the Bulgarian team, her long hair tied up under a lumpy baseball cap,

"I would never judge you, Victoire," Dominique said, "After all, I think it's quite a useful skill to be able to, what is it-" she paused, shaking the paper open and scanning the page before carefully reading, "-'breathe out of your ears'. Quite remarkable. I wonder if it's genetic?"

Victoire shot her sister a wicked glare, and made a snatch for the paper. Unfortunately, Dominique was too quick, and she'd darted to the other side of their large tent's living room before Victoire could even get close.

"Give me that paper," Victoire demanded.

"Or what?"

"Or I'll tell Mum about that time you and Angela snuck out to play Quidditch on the beach."

Dominique rolled her eyes dismissively and replied, "Oh, as if she'll get mad at me for that."

"It was two in the morning!"

"So?"

"It was snowing!"

"And?"

"And- and-" Victoire struggled to convey the true dangerousness of her sister's night-time, illegal adventure with their next door neighbour. "And the waves were practically twelve feet high! How on earth could you believe that Mum wouldn't be mad?"

Dominique shrugged.

"Mum was in the Tri-Wizard Tournament, remember? Dad fought a werewolf by _choice_. I hardly think they can lecture me about getting into unsafe situations."

Victoire faltered, deflating a little. Dominique had, after all, made a very good point. Not that Victoire would ever admit it out loud.

"That's not the point!" she insisted, but had no further argument to make.

Dominique regarded her big sister for a long moment, which made Victoire uncomfortable. She kept her eyes on the paper in Dom's hands, not wanting to lose sight of her goal. Dominique was a pro at distractions, pranks, tricks – pretty much at anything and everything that caused others embarrassment.

"No," Dominiqiue finally said, her voice slow and even, "That isn't the point. The point is that, if you want me to make sure that no one in our family ever reads this article, you'll have to do something for me."

Eyes narrowed, but mind open to persuasion, Victoire nodded for her sister to go on. She was not beyond buying her way out of humiliation, and for all of Dom's skills in wreaking havoc, Victoire was equally capable of bending people to her will. In a friendly, charming way, of course.

"I promise to make sure that no copies of this Daily Prophet reach any of our family's hands, if you will help me play a prank on the boys."

"The boys?" Victoire asked, dreading the answer.

"The cousins," Dominique confirmed, "James, Albus, Hugo, and Fred. And, of course, Louis. The idiot."

"What did they do to you?"

With a distasteful expression on her face, Dominique took of her cap, letting her long, silver hair fall down around her shoulders. Only, it wasn't long silver hair at all.

"Seaweed?" Victoire asked, a little bit stunned. "They turned your hair into seaweed?"

"I think it was accidental," Dom said. "I mean, they definitely meant to hex me, but I don't think James actually knew what that particular spell would do. He says he can't undo it."

"You think he's lying?"

"No. But that doesn't make a difference. I want revenge."

Dom's tone was plain, but the venom was clear in her eyes.

She had a love/hate relationship with their cousins. Until not long ago she had been a member of their group of troublemakers: going along with their pranks, masterminding them, really. But recently James had taken charge of the group, bringing the youngest, Fred, into the mix. The four year-old was a nightmare – chaos and destruction seemed to be drawn to him like thestrals to a carcass. According to Dominique, she'd gotten sick of the artlessness of James' brand of pranks, the lack of innovation. Now, she had become the target of his tricks.

"Revenge sounds a bit… extreme," Victoire said.

"Don't worry," Dominique replied, her tone casual and dismissive, "We'll just mess with them a bit. Just a bit of harmless fun."

Victoire eyed her sister and the newspaper in her hands. She had no doubt that Dom would do what she promised, as long as Victoire fulfilled her end of the bargain. She thought about the words in that article, the consequences of her parents reading it.

Her father would never allow Teddy inside Shell Cottage again without vigilant supervision. He'd never let her go out without one of her siblings tagging along. He'd inevitably send endless letters to Hogwarts, full of interrogation and accusations. Worse still would be her mother, going on and on about the romance of it all. Inviting Teddy over for tea, giving them pointed glances and fussing over Victoire's hair and clothes more than she already did.

It would be torture.

Victoire needed Dominique's help.

"I'll do it," she said, and Dominique grinned.

"Wonderful. Let me tell you the plan."

…

The plan was insane. Only Dominque could come up with something so devious, yet so surprisingly easy to do.

Victoire was just thankful that her role was minimal. Behind the scenes stuff, mostly. All she had to do was place one little hose in a particular spot, and cast one little spell. It was harmless, she reminded herself. Just a bit of fun. It wasn't like the boys didn't deserve it.

A tug on the hose signalled to Victoire that her time had come. She carefully manoeuvred the nozzle into a small slit in the fabric of the Potter's tent. She felt bad for Harry and Ginny, and what they would come home to – really, she did – but it wasn't like she had a choice. It was a matter of life and death that her parents didn't see that Prophet article.

Victoire felt the hose turn on and shoved the nozzle a bit further into the tent, making sure it was properly inside. Then, glancing around furtively, she pulled her wand from her pocket and cast a quick little sealing spell, to make the water wouldn't leak out. Hiding her wand back in her pocket, Victoire walked away from the tent, feigning casualness, before breaking into a jog to meet up with Dominique, who was her on her way back from the tap.

"Did you do it?" Dom asked.

Victoire nodded.

"Great. One more thing then."

"Dom! You said that was all I had to do," Victoire felt an edge of panic in her voice, and she dropped her tone to hiss, "I don't want to be implicated!"

"You won't be," Dominique said dismissively, "And this last favour is just something small. Come on."

Dominique led the way back into their own family's tent. Victoire watched as her sister headed into the kitchen, bending down to rummage through a cupboard until she emerged with a large bowl in hand. Dom carried the bowl over to Victoire, and held it in fonrt of her expectantly.

"I need you to make some fish."

"Fish?!"

"To put in the aquarium. It just makes good sense."

Victoire cursed under her breath, but she was too involved now to back out. Plus. She had to admit Dom was right – a tent-turned-aquarium would be useless without any fish.

"I can't just make fish out of nothing though," Victoire pointed out. "No one has taught me that yet."

"Could you transfigure something into them?" Dominique asked.

Victoire shrugged uncertainly. That sounded slightly more possible, but only slightly. She was about to start her sixth year at Hogwarts, but transfiguring objects into fish hadn't been on the curriculum so far.

Dominique turned away to rifle through a different cupboard, producing a stack of objects for Victoire to try and transfigure.

Keeping her eyes on the growing pile of miscellaneous junk, Victoire called out when she saw something she thought might help. A plate, painted with a design of blue fish. Surely she could bring those to life.

Dominque backed away as Victoire drew her wand again, took a deep breath and pointed it at the plate. She wracked her brains for the right incantation, vaguely remembering something from Charms class last year. They had briefly made pictures of kittens on plates materialise into real creatures (the school seemed to have an inordinately large stack of such plates that the professors were keen to get rid of). The kittens hadn't lasted for long, simply wandering around the classroom for an hour or so with their solidity slowly fading until they returned to the surfaces of the plates.

"_Excepe Ex Lanx_!" Victoire called, flourishing her wand in spiral and a jab.

She jumped back in shock when the blue painted fish instantly fell out of the surface of the plate, dropping to the floor where they flopped around pathetically, sides heaving.

"It worked," Victoire murmured, impressed and surprised at her own success.

"It worked!" Dom repeated, bounding over to neatly scoop up the fish into her bowl. "Thanks sis."

Victoire watched, still stuck in place, awed at her unexpected proficiency at the Charm, as Dom left the tent with a smug smile on her face. When she'd recovered from her shock, Victoire glanced over at the table, where Dominique's copy of the Daily Prophet had still been resting. True to Dom's word, the Prophet was no gone, with no trace of that wretched woman's gossip column remaining.

Letting out a sigh of relief, Victoire hurried over to pick up the now plain white plate and shove it back in a cupboard. She wasn't quite sure how the fish would return onto the plate if they couldn't get to it, but it wasn't her problem. Now, she wanted to go and find Teddy.

Teddy Lupin was, as Victoire had hoped, alone. She found him ducked in the space between two of the campsite's more superfluous tents: one with flapping sails and curved rooves that looked very much like the Sydney Opera House, and another that was entirely, inexplicably, a rainbow of neon colours. Teddy was crouching down in the shade, tapping absently at a mushroom with his wand to make it change colour.

He didn't seem to notice as Victoire approached him from behind.

"Hey, stranger," she whispered, laughing as Teddy started, almost losing his balance as he whirled around to face her.

"Merlin, Victoire! Don't sneak up on me like that, please."

"Sorry," Victoire said, still giggling a little, and added to her apology by kissing Teddy on the cheek.

His expression was still slightly miffed, but Teddy shuffled over to make room for Victoire beside him on the ground.

"So what exactly are you doing here?" Victoire asked, looking around at the odd little space.

The walls of the two tents pressed in close, the sails of the Opera House one flapping enough to conceal Teddy quite effectively from sight. The canvas of the neon tent seemed almost to glow with its vibrant colour, lending a brightness to the gap that wasn't altogether awful. Teddy tapped his mushroom again and it turned a luminescent silvery colour, not dissimilar from Victoire's hair.

"Hiding," Teddy said. He didn't look at Victoire as he spoke, instead peering out through the flapping sails, as if trying to spot someone who might be out there in the open campsite.

"Oh, no. Did you see the article?"

Over his shoulder, Victoire could see Teddy's expression turn to a frown.

"No. What article?"

"A Rite Skeeter one. In the Prophet. About… well, about us."

That was enough to make Teddy turn back around, eyes wide and demanding more of an explanation.

"It was a gossip column. There was stuff in there about all of us – my family, I mean. Uncle Harry and Ron. But I guess Skeeter also saw us. She said we were 'snogging'-" Victoire's screwed up her nose at the old-fashioned word "-whatever that means."

"She saw us?"

For a smart boy, Teddy could be awfully thick. Victoire nodded in reply.

"And she wrote about it. In the _Prophet_?"

Victoire nodded again.

Teddy then said a series of words that Victoire would have been cursed into last week for repeating. She patiently waited for him to stop, an amused smile playing on her lips.

"Do you think she saw us in the woods?" Teddy asked, his tone still panicked. "Or maybe by the souvenir marquee?"

"It could have been that time at the lake," Victoire suggested, "Or yesterday, by the Brazilian tents. Or earlier yesterday by the Bulgarian tents. Or the night of the day before, when we went to have a look at the stadium. Or that time in the tree…"

"We sneak around a lot, huh?" Teddy mused, making Victoire break off with a laugh.

"No more than necessary," she replied.

"So you think all that snogging is necessary?"

Victoire winced again at the word. Teddy saw, and his eyes sparkled with mischief.

"What, you don't like calling it snogging?"

"No. It sounds gross."

"Snogging sounds gross?"

"Stop saying it!"

"Saying what?" Teddy grinned.

"_That _word."

"What word?"

"Stop it!"

"Stop what? You want us to stop snogging?"

"No!"

"You'll need to explain yourself better Victoire, otherwise we'll never get any snogging in before-"

Victoire did the only practical thing to shut Teddy up, leaning in kissing him hard. Her plan worked well, and she hummed in satisfaction as Teddy's hand moved up to hold her cheek.

"Before what?" Victoire asked in a low voice, pulling away from the kiss.

Teddy let out a breath, the warm air breezing over Victoire's lips.

"Before James and Louis find me. We're technically playing hide and seek."

Unable to help it, Victoire let out a laugh.

"I don't suppose they would have looked inside James' tent?"

"Probably. Why?"

Victoire kissed away thee creases of a frown on Teddy's forehead, trailing her lips down to his mouth once again, and then pausing there.

"They won't be coming here for a while," she promised.


	3. Chapter 3

**I hope everyone has been enjoying this little story! This last chapter ended up going in a different to direction to what I planned, so I apologise if the ending feels a bit out of sync with the rest of the story. I'm always really grateful hear any feedback you have, so leave me a review if you liked it, or didn't like, or just want to say hello.**

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><p>"Don't judge me?" Dom guessed, raising her eyebrows at Victoire as she stood at the door of the compartment on the Hogwarts Express.<p>

Victoire paused in the doorway, her expression confused.

"Why would I say that?" she asked.

She walked the rest of the way inside, depositing her trunk on the ground beside her sister's and collapsing onto a seat.

Dominique's face was hard to read, but she seemed to be calculating something.

"What?" Victoire asked again, beginning to get nervous.

Finally, Dominique spoke.

"You didn't hear him," she said.

"Didn't hear who?"

Dom was smiling now, in a scheming way that made Victoire suddenly very anxious to find out what she didn't know.

"What happened, Dominique?"

"Really, you should be telling me, Victoire. All I know is that I was barely on the train for a second before Louis comes running up to me saying that Albus told him that James told Albus that he'd seen a certain sister of mine snogging a certain, blue-haired family friend."

"James saw Teddy and me?"

Victoire's words were somewhat of a shriek, and she thought it was entirely appropriate to follow them by burying her face in her hands, cheeks burning red with embarrassment.

"Oh, Merlin. Oh, stinking, sodding, bloody Merlin," Victoire was all but crying into her hands, "I am going to murder that dobbing little prat!"

Dominique watched her sister's distress with an amused expression.

"That James Potter… I'm going to kill him. He is going to get so many detentions he won't know the meaning of Saturday!"

"I think that would count as an abuse of your power as Head Girl," Dom pointed out.

Victoire looked up and fixed her with a glare.

"You are not helping!"

Dom shrugged, and Victorie could not comprehend how she could be so blasé about all this. Victoire's biggest secret – one she had successfully kept for no less than one and a half years, had just been revealed to the very people who would judge her most about it. She might have hoped for a little more sympathy for her loving, dear sister.

"I just don't get why it's such a big deal. You two have been sneaking around forever. Won't it be a relief to not have to hide all the time?"

"No it will _not_ be a relief! Do you think it will be a relief to have to have a 'conversation' with Dad about boundaries and 'alone time'? Do you think it will be a relief to have everyone watching us whenever we're together, everyone muttering every time we leave the room? Do you think it will be a relief to have _James pissing Potter_ on our tail all the time?"

"Now, I'm sure that's not our cousin's real middle name."

Victoire groaned at her sister's complete inability to grasp the seriousness of this situation. Dom's expression was somewhere between bored and amused, as if she'd tuned out of Victoire's complaints somewhere halfway through, and was thinking of something else entirely.

"Well then," Victoire said, "how would you feel if James Potter walked in on you and Angela?"

Instantly, Dom's relaxed expression dropped, making way for one of shock.

"What did you say?"

"Please, Dom, of course I know about you two. It is so obvious."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Need I tell you about that time you two went to 'climb trees' in the garden? Or 'went swimming' in that hidden cove at the beach?"

The suggestion of what Dom and her girlfriend had really been doing was clear in Victoire's tone.

Dominique was still frozen.

"Please, don't tell anyone," she finally whispered. "Mum and Dad, they don't-"

"I know," Victoire said. "I'm not going to tell."

"Thank you."

"And even if I did tell," Victoire went on, enjoying the panic that briefly rose up in her sister's expression, "What's a bit of harmless fun between friends, anyway? That's what Teddy and I are having."

Dom laughed, the sound of it tinged with relief.

"You and Teddy?" she asked, her tone sceptical, "A bit of harmless fun?"

"That's what I call it," Victoire shrugged. "It makes it seem less, you know, _big_."

Dominique smiled.

"A bit of harmless fun," she echoed. "I like the sound of that."


End file.
